Common Cold
by WonderPickle
Summary: It's hard enough mothering four adult geniuses. It's even harder when they're all sick. One-shot, minor Quintis, minor Waige.


**because I'm getting sick again, and I really miss my people. is it April 10th yet?**

 **enjoy!**

* * *

"All of you, eat."

Toby groaned, slumping further into the couch cushions. "If I eat anymore, I might hurl again."

"While I'm grateful for your help, Paige," Sly replied, coughing between breaths, "all I want is to go home, read my new Super Fun Guy comic and take a shower to disinfect myself."

She placed the bowls of soup on the table. "If you go home, none of you will take care of yourselves properly."

The doc huffed. "That's not true. I'd tend to my baby's every need. Right, Happy?"

"Oh, you can barely even function."

"I take offense to that, Dineen."

"Can it, Toby."

Happy coughed, ignoring her husband. "Where's Walt? He was the one who kicked off this sniffling trainwreck in the first place."

"I still can't believe I let him come anywhere near me when he was showing symptoms of a cold," Sly griped.

Paige gestured to the ceiling with her pointer finger. "Upstairs. I couldn't get him to come down. Something about all of you in the same room while sick compromising efficiency."

Happy pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Load of crap. We're already sick. Doesn't matter who's hacking germs on who at this point."

"Almighty 197 just doesn't want his employees to see _him_ compromised," Toby remarked. Towards the end of his comment he started to raise his chin, and when he ceased talking, a sneeze belted out from his nose. The direction of his nostrils was aimed at the younger male genius sitting on his right, whether it was inadvertent or not.

Sly made a face in utter repulsion. He practically flew off the couch, diving for the hand sanitizer on the coffee table. "Toby!" he shrieked, pumping bubbles into his palm.

The doc gave a simultaneous shrug and grin. "I don't have jurisdiction on the target of my snot, pal."

Paige closed her eyes while giving them a small head shake.

Sly's expression was still grotesque. "Remind me again why we're here instead of in the comfort of our own homes."

The brunette woman shrugged. "Because I care about you guys, and it's my job to take care of you."

" _And_ the whole team out of commission is bad for business," Happy interjected, coughing into her fist, "Fast recovery equals more work equals more moola."

"That, too."

Toby raised a finger. "Uh, Miss Mother Hen? When I was dripping with mucus and red nosed as Rudolph last year, you didn't take care of me."

"That was different," Paige replied, "we had a _case_."

"That doesn't make what you said less contradictory," Sly noted.

She shook her head. "If none of you will drink the soup, will you at least take medication?"

Toby nodded. "That probably won't induce vomiting."

The mathematician scrunched his nose. "Please, Toby, keep your internal thoughts internal."

"Oh, would you like me to go into more detail about my personal symptoms?" the doc teased.

Happy hit him in the thigh with the back of her foot. "Doc, if you worsen my headache, I'll kick you hard enough to _make sure_ you throw up again."

Paige held up her palms to silence them. "How about I just go get the medicine?" She spun on her heel before they could utter protests, stalking across the garage and into the kitchen. Several boxes and bottles of varying pills were sprawled across the countertop from the illness that'd spread throughout the week. Finding the correct plastic container, she poured the proper doses into four separate cups and proceeded to return to her previous spot. She handed one to each genius. "Here, this'll help with the headaches, sniffling, coughing, and sore throats. Or so the bottle says."

They all begrudgingly accepted and chugged, giving grimaces of distaste as a response.

"Couldn't have snuck some whiskey in there, could you, Dineen?" Happy asked as she passed the cup back.

Paige rolled her eyes.

"What's with the fourth helping?" Toby inquired, repeating his wife's action, "Touch one too many of Sly's tissues and now you're among the infected?"

"Those are _your_ tissues, Toby. _I_ dispose of mine in the trash can."

"I'm bringing it up to Walter," Paige answered, neglecting the latter two comments.

"Walt hates medication," Happy warned while she curled into Toby's side.

"Well, he won't get better if he doesn't take it," the older woman replied. She turned, crossing the space to reach the stairs. "Yell if you need anything."

"Yes, because with a sore throat yelling is certainly within my physical capabilities," Toby deadpanned.

Paige shot him a glare before disappearing into the top floor.

* * *

"Toby, would you move over?" Sly groaned, "You're practically taking up the whole couch."

"I am in the _middle_ , Sly," the elder genius retorted, "I'm squished between you two hoggers."

Happy furrowed her brows. "Don't drag me into this. If anyone's hijacked all the space, it's you, doc."

"It would be a lot simpler if we had more comfortable furniture around here," Sly complained.

"Like Walt would dip into the company cash pot for a new recliner, just for comfort's purposes," Toby replied. Happy started coughing into the crook of her elbow, immediately shifting the behaviorist's focus towards her. "You okay, lovebug?"

"I didn't get that kind of attention when _I_ was coughing," Sylvester grumbled.

Toby frowned. "When you have an expensive wedding ring on your finger, Sly, I'll give you my undivided attention."

The door leading to the garage creaked open, and a familiar federal agent strided through. He took off his sunglasses as he approached the trio with identical red noses and dreary eyes. Three bowls of soup, accompanied by a tissue box, empty medicine cups, and huge tub of hand sanitizer rested on the coffee table.

"Well, you all look like hell," Cabe announced.

"Nice to see you, too, Cabe," Toby responded.

Sly swallowed. "Don't tell me we have a case."

The agent shook his head. "Lucky for you sickos, no mission today."

"Then why are you here?" Happy questioned.

"Paige texted. Said you weren't doing so hot. And from the looks of it, she under exaggerated."

"We're fine," Toby told him. But, he precedingly sneezed twice, resulting in a thirty second coughing fit to follow. Happy watched with a hint of concern, Sylvester moved as close to the edge of the couch as he could in disgust, and Cabe chortled amusingly that the doc's comment was proven incorrect. "Okay," Toby croaked when he finished, "we're not fine."

"Clearly. How about a movie?"

* * *

"It's okay for them to see you sick, you know," Paige said, "You don't have to be their superlative leader all the time."

"That's not what this is about," Walter countered without looking up from his tablet.

"Then, what is it about?"

"Research." He continued typing feverishly, but still sneezed. "I'm ill, not incapacitated. I can still work on things."

Paige sighed, giving in after several minutes of his arguing. At least she'd gotten him to take his medicine. "Whatever you say, Walter."

* * *

Paige slowed as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She approached Cabe at the center table, puzzled. He turned when she neared.

Happy, Toby, and Sylvester were together on the couch, like she'd left them. But now Toby, who sat in the middle, held a tablet in his hand, and they were all focused intently on what it was playing. The engineer was snuggled into her husband's side, while Sly was more reluctant to cuddle up to Toby. He settled for going as far as hip to hip.

"You got them to stop bickering?" Paige asked incredulously, voice soft.

"Took them a while to sort out their movie choice," he answered, "but they're quiet now."

"Wow, even I couldn't do that."

"It wasn't you, kid. They just needed a change of pace."

The ex-waitress didn't get the chance to respond. Before she could, the last member of the team padded down the stairs behind them. He only appeared slightly less sick than the rest of them, but still flemmy enough to fit right in.

He shared a quick look with Paige as he passed. "Is there...room for one more?" he questioned.

The other geniuses gave varying smiles at his entrance. "Welcome to the sick fest, boss," Toby greeted.

They all scooched over to accommodate another body. Somehow they managed to squeeze four people on the couch, much to Cabe's and Paige's disbelief.

Sly raised the volume on the tablet in Toby's lap, and the song from whatever Disney movie they were viewing suddenly became audible to the liaison and the federal agent.

They watched like proud parents as the geniuses ceased fighting, not wrapped up in their own heads, letting their shared illness form a buffer for the time being. _Sometimes families don't get along_ , Paige thought, _but at the end of the day they're still a family_.

"You could've taken the day off, you know," Cabe whispered, eyes focused on the four geniuses, "not risk the chance of bringing the bug home to Ralph."

Paige smiled whilst she shrugged. "They wouldn't have properly taken care of themselves otherwise."

"Well, I could've done it."

"Taking care of them," she said, voice brimming with pangs of affection, "it's what I do."

Cabe nodded slightly. His lip quirked upwards, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Well, you're pretty damn good at it. They're lucky to have you looking out for them."

She began to flash a grin, but was stopped short by a sudden cough crawling out of her throat. Afterwards, she sneezed into her hand.

"Looks like it might be their turn to take care of you," Cabe remarked.

Paige shook her head, amused. "God help me."


End file.
